


Association

by Anonymous_Creator



Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 15:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Creator/pseuds/Anonymous_Creator
Summary: Sometimes Matt can be a brooding idiot and Marisha's had it with that bullshit and is willing to put skin in the game.





	Association

**Author's Note:**

> The first rule of shipping real life humans is -- don't ship the real life humans. Especially don't ship them anywhere they can SEE it. And for the good grace of green apples don't mention it in places outside of this. This is weird. You're here too, welcome to my weird, weirdling. Enjoy it, but let's respect the real life humans and keep it on the down low.
> 
> I also appreciate comments, all that being said. If you're feeling brave.

Matt hit play on Caleb’s playlist and put his phone on the edge of the vanity counter in the bathroom. Bits of steam curled past the edge of the shower’s sliding glass door. Clothes created a pile behind the door and he was left with the last task.

“Jesus Liam, you’re a morbid mother fucker, you know that?” The lyrics were digging into him today, but not in a way he minded. It felt familiar, strangely soothing. Akin to when you picked at a scab you know you should let heal but couldn’t seem to leave alone.

The leather bands he set next to the phone. An idle thumb swept over the raised tissue on his left wrist. He felt the little knot in the scar where one of the stitches had been a touch too tight.

The steam had obscured the mirror. He ignored his blurred reflection and got in the shower. The sting was painful on his dry skin. He didn’t change the temperature of the water. Scrubbed too hard, with not enough soap. His skin went from pale to a rosy pink from the abuse.

He didn’t hear the door open to the bathroom however the draft of cold air crept around the door and he gasped for a moment at the change. He turned his head and Marisha slipped into the shower.

“Wait, no!” he tried to block her for a moment, then tried to turn down the water. She moved past him in silent grace. Stood there in her bra and underwear, makeup starting to fall apart, her updo a rapidly matting mess. He gaped.

Runaway swirled through the speaker in the bathroom and she shoved him into the wall of the shower and kissed him. He felt something click in his head and tangled his hands into her hair. A bobby pin fell to the shower floor and as he shook her head and then bit at the corner of her lip.

The next song queued into the playlist and Matt pulled back with a blink and a weak chuckle. Marisha shared an amused grin before she skipped the track.

Her skin was streaked with color from the hot water. Shit. He reached over to change the water and she slapped his hand away.

“Marisha,” he said, his voice a confused plea. She pushed his hands above his head and nipped at his neck, the edge of his ear, the corner of his mouth. He felt the rough edge of the lace in her bra against his chest as she leaned into him. Her fingers flicked against the scar on his wrist as she wrapped her other hand around his cock.

He whimpered and threw his head back as she stroked him. The hot water cascaded down his body to where she fucked him.

“God damn it, Marisha, I’m gonna come if you keep—”

She swallowed his words with violent kisses and pushed him over the edge. He screamed into her mouth. She stroked him softly after, half held him up as he leaned into her.

“Jesus. Fuck.” Matt gasped for breath. “What the fuck was that about?”

Marisha kissed him gently on his cheek. “You were getting mopey. Something about this playlist lately. I could tell.”

“And that meant do all that?”

Marisha gave him a sly glance as she pulled pin after pin out of her hair and let them clatter to the shower floor. “Pavlov’s bell.”

He looked at her stupidly as she unclasped her bra and threw it over the top of the shower to land on the floor outside.

“What, you’re telling me you’re not going to think about this the next time you listen to it?”

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy RPF? Writing RPF? Consider setting your fiction to "Only show your work to registered users" so the cast (or their neighbors, or family, or coworkers) can't easily find it.


End file.
